


It's The Biggest Gay

by Homestuck_Gay_Bean



Series: TF2 weight gain adventures [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Bonk!, Fluff and Angst, Inflation, M/M, Other, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 09:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20964008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homestuck_Gay_Bean/pseuds/Homestuck_Gay_Bean
Summary: As Spy and Scouts relationship grows, so does Spy's waistline





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This include weight gain. Don't like don't read. I wrote this with my lover, me as Spy and him as Scout.
> 
> So much angst.

Spy frowned, his eyes on the clock. Scout was late. Extremely late. The frenchmen was definitely not happy about this. "Mon Cher, why must you worry me..." He muttered, moving to hang up his suit. He would clean if he was going to be late, trying to hide his worry.

It wasn't much later until the boy pushed open the door, bracing himself on the wooden frame. Two errors were apparent as he lurched forward: He wasn't speaking, and he was moving slowly. Focusing on every step, he managed to almost hide his lack of balance. He continued on like this until he reached the bed, flopping onto it face first.

Spy watch from the shadows, frowning. He walked towards him silently, removing his cloaking feature. "Where were you." He says coldy, standing over the boy.

"Huh?" Jeremy rolled over, squinting up at the man. "IIII went for a.. mm, a walk. " He grinned.

"Jeremy, you were gone for three hours." He noticed every little feature that was off about the boy. "And you're drunk."

"Bullshiiit." He struggled to sit up, reaching his arms longingly towards the Spy. "I'm not drunk, man. Why would I be drunk? you're freakin crazy."

He frowned, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves. The frenchmen stood outside of his reach, glaring down at him. "I'm not an idiot." He inspected the rest of him for injuries or manglement.

"Uh, yes, you are." He scoffed, laying back down so the older man couldn't stare any longer. "You're the dumbest person I know, asshole."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jeremy, how much did you drink this time?" He hid his worry well.

He waved his hand in the air, a vague and confusing gesture. "Seven." He informed the other, giggling at his own response.

He gave him a look, a bit of worry fazing through. "Mon amour, pourquoi veux-tu..." He asked, lowering himself next to his lover. "Did that Scot convince you to do this?"

"I don't know whaaaat the hell you just said, but it sounded... lacey." Jeremy huffed, reaching again for him. "Noooo.. I did it myself."

He pulled the boy into his lap, stroking his hair. "It means I was worried for you, Mon Cher. You didn't come home on time. I cooked dinner tonight."

"Oh thank god, I'm starving." He complained, mumbling out the words. "Whaaatdidd you make?"

He blushed under his mask, coughing gently to clear his throat. "Steak, potatoes, and collard greens. But after an hour or so of waiting for you I ate it. Didn't want it to go to waste." His accent was dripping like a faucet.

"Of course you did, you damn pig." Jeremy dramatically went limp in his lap, groaning. "I can't eat right now anyway." He muttered, drooling on the other mans shirt.

He pushed him away from him, frowning. "At least I eat healthy meal, and not that carbonated death trap in a can." He bit his lip, looking away.

"What?!" He squaked, rolling off the bed. The boy yelped as he hit the ground, but sat straight up, pointing accusingly at the spy. "Whaddya talkin' about?"

He smirked, looking down at him. "Those Bonk!s you live off of. They keep you stick thin. And with very few muscles." He taunted him.

"Hell no they don't! I've got muscles for days! So many muscles." He claimed, struggling to try and flex his arms. "Have you even seen my legs!"

The frenchmen nodded, patting the boy on the head. "Oui. And they are underwhelming." He kind of wanted to make an example of his body, as it used to be in perfect health. But, he was slightly worried of the taunting that would follow. It felt great, but he was still mad at him.

He glared, turning away and pouting. His mind was still much too fuzzy to properly insult the man, but he was damn sure gonna make an effort. "Your dick is underwhelming."

A scowl tugged at the older mans lips. "Non. It is not. You of all people should know this." He was rambling, his perfect precision falling apart.

"Whatever, pick me up you freakin loser, I'm dyin' down here." He snapped, his eyelids drooping slightly.

He sighed, lifting the boy back into his lap. "Fine, Mon Cher." He muttered, sitting farther back into the bed.

If scout were to concentrate just a little, he would notice the slightest bit of fat pressing into him. The frenchmen had finally started eating full meals a while ago, instead of just a little bit of fruit and meats. He began wriggling around, trying to pull off his uncomfortable clothing so they could lay together or some gay shit like that. He managed to pull off his shirt, nearly elbowing the spy's face in the process.

He frowned, grumbling a bit at his squirming. "Do you want some help, Mon amour?" He asked his lover, noticing his shirt start to wrinkle.

"I've got this." He whined, beginning to tug at his pants. Somehow in his drunken state of mind, he didn't think to unbutton them, just to tug violently until he gave up.

His hand dropped down from the boys hair, unbuttoning his pants. "Is that better?" He asked, a smirk spreading across his face.

He nodded, wiggling out of his lap and onto the other side of the bed, groaning from the effort. "Psshhhhttt, pshht, c'mere."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he moved towards the boy. "What is it Mon Cher?" He asked, stroking Jeremy's face

"Lay dowwnn. Or I'll vomit all over you." The mostly naked man threatened, patting the bed right next to him.

He nodded, laying down with him. "Do not, brand new shirt." He informed the boy.

He grinned curling up and scooting down to rest his head on the other man's stomach, using him as a pillow of sorts. "I'm going to make sure to ruin it then." He promised.

He scowled, pushing him away lightly. "Don't you dare. You know I will punish you harshly for ruining any of my clothing." He gripped onto the boys hair, pulling him back.

He hissed in pain, squirming and whining loudly. "C'monnn, it was a freakin' joke, you know it was a joke, man! It's just some stupid fabric, anyway!"

He set him back down onto his belly, petting his hair. "Good. I will not tolerate you being a little shit today." He breathed slowly, his belly rising and falling.

Jeremy grumbled insults and complaints under his breath, rubbing the spy's soft tum. "I'm not a little shit any day."

He nodded, sighing gently. "I know, Mon amour." He stroked his cheek, humming a gentle tune.

"You're getting pretty squishy." He acknowledged, nuzzling against him. He was sleepy from the alcohol, but conflictingly excited about being with the man now. The solution was to be viciously cuddly, although the scout generally didn't enjoy cuddling.

His breath hitched, as he cuddled with the smaller man. "That's what happens when you eat good home cooked meals." He fought, a blush covering his cheeks.

"Yknow, for once you dont look half bad." He shrugged, pushing his fingers gently into the noticeable fat.

He frowned. "You still look like a stupid idiot to me." He responded, smacking his fingers away.

He moved his head off the man's belly and onto the bed, emitting a sigh of irritation. "I'm handsome in every way possible." He countered.

He chuckled, booping him in the nose. "I would hope so, your mother was a very beautiful woman. As am I." He smirked, pressing the boy close.

"You look like- uh, like, I don't even know what. Stupid, you just look real stupid. You're the stupid idiot." He retorted pathetically, glaring up at him.

"Then you are also a stupid idiot." He countered, moving him farther into his lap.

"I'm not a stupid idiot!" The boy began poking him repeatedly, wherever he could reach. "You are, I'm not."

He frowned, slapping his hand. "Stop. You are acting imature, Mon amour."

He began using both hands to poke him, laughing quietly. "No, I'm acting like me. Which means I'm amazing."

His blush grew darker, a weird look on his face. "Jeremy, stop. Please." He pleaded, trying to calm himself down. He jabbed both fingers into his chest, grunting. "Why?" He questioned, shoving his face in so close that their foreheads bumped together. "You okay?"

He nodded, his eyes staring deep into the other man's. "Oui, I'm fine, amour." He tried to push him back.

He clung to him still, intensely staring back despite his still constantly drooping eyelids. "Nope! Tell me what's wrong, or.. I'll start drooling on your shirt again!"

He gave a pained expression, frowning. "Don't you dare. I am perfectly fine. You are just touching me." He tried to look annoyed.

He layed his head down on the man's shoulder, but began making a concerning gurgling sound just a few seconds later. Drunk Scout was miraculously dumber and more shameless that Sober Scout, dumb and shamless enough to really do it.

He hissed, pushing him back. "Non! Get off me!" He squirmed, his belly jiggling just the slightest. "You just keep touching me."

He scrambled away, moving from the bed. "That's stupid." He pouted, looking hurt as he threw himself back onto his side of the bed. "I thought you liked when I touched you."

He frowned, holding himself. "I-I... Oui..." He removed his shirt, hanging it up. "You see?" A little belly sat there.

He shrugged, sitting up slowly. "What am I seeing?" He questioned, not understanding the greater meaning in the situation.

He scowled, cursing under his breath. "Of course you don't understand..." He holds his head in his hands as he sits down. The small belly scrunching up, pressing out more.

"Are you tryin' to say I'm dumb or something?" Jeremy frowned, watching him as he moved. "Sorry, I don't understand your damn riddles."

"You're drunk!" He yelled, fury in his eyes. "J'ai grossi et vous continuez à jouer avec moi et mon corps!" He continued rambling in French.

"Uh.." He looked offended, confused, and maybe a little sad. Why the fUck was he yelling- the boy flinched away, sitting back. "What??"

He quieted, breathing slowly. "Sorry, Mon amour..." He loved the boy, but his body had changed so much in the past few months.

"Sorry I'm drunk." He shrugged, moving back towards the man to comfort him. "You're gonna have to say it in English though-"

He nodded, pulling the boy close to his chest. He pet his hair, kissing him. "The changes in my body are... Uncomfortable..."

"You mean your fat?" He asked bluntly, gazing 'innocently' up at him. "What's so uncomfortable about it?"

He pet him, sighing. "Oui. I haven't been able to fit into my suits. I've been more hungry, and the other mercs have been getting on my ass about it..."

"Hah, what do they matter? The best person on the team thinks you're hot, thats all that matters." He scoffed.

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "I know, I know." He kissed him, working his tongue around the boys mouth He wrapped his arms around him, kissing back sloppily. He probably tasted like alcohol and sugary drinks.

He pulled back, pressing his nose to Jeremy's. "Merci, amour." He mutters

"Hm?" He smiled, running his hands down the spy's sides and squeezing. "Damn, you really are freaking sexy, you know that?"

A small choked moan left him, causing him to want to push away. "N-non..." God oh fuck, drunk scout is a very strange scout.

Sober scout would agree that drunk scout is a strange, but drunk scout was a sensless little shit who loved to irritate the older man just as much. "You know what you need? You need some soda." He decided, this being the perfect reasoning in his fuzzy little brain.

He sputtered a bit, confused. "What in the world would I need soda for? That carbonated shit will probably do more damage!" Scout was the only man in the world who had seen him vulnerable like this. He truly was special.

"No, you need it." He squirmed away, stumbling out of the bed and over to the kitchen area to gather a few cans of his favourite beverage, excited to share it with the growing man.

He watched him, trying to stop this increasing blush that was spreading across his face. "Non, Jeremy, that's not necessary."

"Hell yeah it is." He dropped them on the bed, at least five, and began cracking one open. He smiled at the satisfying hiss of carbonation, before shoving it against the frenchman's lips. "It tastes freaking wonderful, believe me."

He tasted a bit of the sugary drink, his face twisting in horror. He couldn't protest without hurting the boy, so he drank it down. His arms shook under his weight pressing against the bed.

He showed no mercy, moving to grab another as soon as the other had choked down the first can. "I knew you would love it."

A small whimper left him as he drank more, knowing that he was right. It tasted good. Too good.

"If you can even finish these ones, I'll get you a few more." He promised with a loving smile. Maybe he enjoyed making the man suffer, or he just thought this was genuinely good. Considering his current state, it was probably the latter.

He felt his stomach fill up slowly, causing him to moan through the mouthful of sugary carbonated death. He looked at his lover with pleading eyes.

"C'mon, don't be such a freakin baby about it." He grunted, pulling the can away to let him breathe.

He panted lightly, glaring at him. "Why did you do that, Jeremy..." He held his stomach, the carbonation sloshing around.

"Oh I dunno, maybe because you were moaning like a bitch over it?" Even with his usual playful behaviour, he wouldn't go this far. But he was enjoying it, at least once. He wouldn't be suprised if the older man returned the favour in some way later, though.

He frowned, glancing at the unopened cans. "Then keep going." He hid his slight fear well, looking confident as his belly jiggled a bit.

He gave him a quick kiss, before starting him on one of the other 3 cans. Jeremy hoped he could get at least 9 cans of the garbage into the man, imagining he would be even squishier then.

He drank it down faster than before, wanting to win. It wasn't a thing you can win, but he knew he would be huge.

"I knew you would get into it!" He exclaimed, nearly dumping the can on his face in his excitement.

He rolled his eyes, staring intently at him. He was still in his dress slacks. Shit.

He emptied the can into the spys mouth, reaching for number 4. He had now spilled enough that it was running down the older man's face and neck, but Jeremy quickly corrected that with a few flicks of his tongue, lapping up the sweet liquid.

A small moan came from him, his face entirely red. "How much more do you plan on stuffing into me?" He asked between cans.

He pulled away, staring down at his hands and counting to four. He then counted another five, before forcefully pulling up two of the older man's fingers. "Uhh- 8 more." The scout smirked proudly. That would be two 6-packs of soda.

He made a look, a small terror writhing inside of him. "Counting the ones on the bed as well, right..?" He was going to be a beached whale after this. His belly taunt and tight. The thought of that sends blood rushing south.

He holds up the last can on the bed, tossing the former full aluminium containter into the growing pile. "Yeah, 8 more." The boy cheered, popping the tab.

He nodded, a small sigh of relief leaving him. "Alright, amour. Get this over with." He held a hand to his belly in slight excitement.

He was sobering up now, the caffeine and alcohol loosening their hold on his thoughts. That didn't slow him down any, and he forced the next drink into his lovers mouth in record time, tossing the 5th can with the others. "Six more, you're on one hell of a freakin' roll here babe." He commented, slapping the man's stomach.

He choked, sputtering up something. He watched as a mark darkened on his ivory skin. It hurt, but God that felt good.

He looked at spy, his gaze unreadable. He slid off the bed, grabbing another case of soda with one can balanced on top. "Think you can handle it?" The boy asked, carefully setting them down beside him.

He nodded, not willing to give up. "Oui..." He whimpered gently. He would never be forced into submission like this with anyone else, but it felt too good.

Jeremy opened the can on top, gently placing his hand on the man's cheek before he lifted the can to his lips, carefully emptying its contents into him. "Damn, you're so thirsty. We should have done this sooner."

He gulped the drink down, nodding as much as he could without spilling. He rubbed his legs together instinctively, wanting the tiniest bit of friction he could get. Anything would be better then nothing at this point.

The scout made a point of shoving the older man's legs apart, shaking his head. He was enjoying the whole table-turning thing even more now. "Whaddya think you're doing, fatass? You haven't finished doing what I told you to."

Another whimper left him as he gave his son pleading eyes. His hardness was obvious through his dress slacks, the band pressing into his belly. "No, not yet." He told him bluntly. Another can down, and he grabbed two more to replace it, forcing the spys mouth further open as he poured both in at once.

He breathed quickly through his nose, almost gagging on the liquid. His hands stayed on his stomach, cramps rocking through his body.

The young man grinned wildly, crushing the cans to force the liquid out quicker. He was trembling with excitement, something he often did when they played like this together. "Yeah fucking drink it, damn, you goddamn hog." He babbled, dropping the cans onto the man. Four more. He once again grabbed another two cans, finding the rushed pace far more fitting.

His breath hitched, moaning at the other mans words. Sure, he sounded like a terrible pornstar with cheesy lines, but at least it felt good. His belly was tight, pressing out in front of him. And he wasn't even finished. Jeremy was right, he was a hog.

Dont attack me like this we both know the scout just quotes all the bad pornos he watches. He went slower with these two, allowing him a moment of peace as the sugary nightmare juice dribbled in slowly. It wasn't long until the contents disappeared into the man's swollen stomach, leaving him with just two more cans. .. more bad porn lines? "Fuck...uh, beg for it, bitch." Jeremy commanded, holding up the final two.

Spy thought it over in his head for less than a milisecond, not thinking of the consequences. "P-please... Mon amour, I need it..." He panted, clutching his stomach. He had only begged for something once before, and that was the first time he was tortured. But he wanted to live up to the boys words. He was a fucking hog.

Eh, good enough. He flicked open the cans, pouring them over the man's face. "Thank you." He muttered, smiling softly. They werent done yet, but that part of things was over, and he loved doing it.

He gave his lover a pained smile, pressing into his large belly. He was ready for a bit of affection before they have their fun.

Jeremy picked up his own discarded shirt, using it to wipe the soda off his partners face, before curling into his side. "Sorry, I really like this stuff-"

He admitted, face burning He nodded, his hand drifting to the boys head. He pet him gently, letting his brain catch up to his body. "It's fine, amour."

"You're not mad about me bossin' you around, right?" He asked, sounding a bit nervous.

He nodded, his hand drifting to the boys head. He pet him gently, letting his brain catch up to his body. "It's fine, amour."

"How can I help?" He sat up eagerly. "Rub you? Suck you off? Both!!"

He nodded, waving the boy to his body. "Go ahead, amour." He gave Jeremy a quick kiss.

He grinned, starting on his belly by rubbing as gently and quickly as he could. Which, turned out kind of bad, but he was still proud of the effort he was giving.

He hummed gently, unbuttoning his pants finally. "Go slower, Jeremy.."

"Shut up." He grunted, though he did slow down, to a much more soothing pace.

He pet his hair in an even pace, smiling. He did stop talking though.

Eventually he stopped, moving downward to tug off the spy's lose pants. He almost threw them on the floor, but paused, folding them sloppily before setting them aside.

He chuckled, moving a second hand to his head. "It better be good, amour." He tells him, smirking. He knew it would be good.

"Well, you aren't gettin' a refund either way, so shut up and enjoy it." He grumbled playfully, before silencing himself by pressing his lips to the man's dick. He hums, moving a hand to his lovers neck. He touched what he could without distracting the boy.

He licked it slowly, before taking the tip into his mouth, another sexytimes tactic he'd learned from low quality internet porn. He had to be careful though, he didn't want to scratch the older man with his teeth. A sigh of relief left the older man, causing him to wince gently.

"Good boy." He cooed gently, stroking behind the boys ears.

He glanced up at him, sucking gently as he inched further down. He had practiced enough that he knew he could take it all, but he was cautious about it.

His eyes were closed in gentle bliss. It feels good, not overwhelming or too little. It was good for slow pleasure. If he got bored of this he could just thrust up, and Jeremy would be full of him.

He licked at the tip still, humming gently around the man's thick erection. He closed his eyes as well, silently enjoying the intimacy.

"Go faster, Mon amour. Please." He says gently, smiling at the boy. Anyone else, he'd be smoking, and fucking their throats raw. But with him, well. He liked it slow.

He grunted in response, pulling off the other slightly to lap at the top again. He enjoyed teasing him, especially like this.

He pet him, leaning his head back to relieve his swollen stomach of some pressure. He started humming again, a tune that was slightly familiar. Slow, and steady. It was even.

The boy took a deep breath, before shoving himself down suddenly and swallowing the whole dick like a damn pro.

The song cut off, his eyes opening quickly. His breath hitched, a small moan escaping him. "Good boy..." He muttered, clenching his hair in his hands.

He sucked harder, face flushed from the much appreciated praise. He loved making the older man proud of him just as much as he loved antagonizing him.

He made a noise, a small blissful smile on his face. He loved this. It was perfect. "Oui..."

Jeremy moved his head up and down slightly, swallowing repeatedly around his partner's cock.

Spy thrusted up a bit, bored of the slow pace. He winced, his stomach lurching. He choked, moaning quietly.

He didn't actually know how to go faster now, since he'd never been facefucked or anything before.

He frowned, angling his hips into a better position. He thrusted some more, hoping he would get a drift of what he was meant to do.

He choked some more, pulling off and grunting. "What are you doing?" He asked hoarsely, glaring.

He rolled his eyes, frowning. "I am trying to get a good blow job, Mon amour." He told him, staring back at him. "I was blowin' you just fine before you tried to suffocate me!" He huffed.

"Too slow. I thought you were a speedster. It seems you're lacking behind the other scouts. What's next, you can't run on the field?" He taunted him, smirking.

He clenched his fists, glaring even more viciously. "You know I'm the fastest, I'm just doing it the way you taught me."

He pulled the boys head back by his hair. "And you are failing me, garçon." He looked at him eye to eye.

Jeremy growled, whining as his beautiful head was once again manhandled. "No, dumbass, you failed yourself not teachin' me right."

He stared into him, a scowl growing on his face. "No, I taught you right. You're just an idiotic garçon!" He held the boy higher with his hair.

He yelped, attempting to spit on the man and get away. "Let go of me, dammit, I'm not a freakin' idiot!"

He rolled his eyes, pressing the boys face into his tight belly. A hiss escaped his chest, a spike of pain running through him.

He let out a muffled cry of complaint, though the man's tum was warm and hard and almost comfortable. He mumbled some insult, probably his best one yet, but of course the stinky spy wouldn't hear.

He breathed in slowly, trying to rid himself of the cramps. He pet Jeremy's hair, no long clutching it by the lengths.

He stopped fighting the other after about a minute, lifting his head slightly and nuzzling against his belly.

The frenchmen smiled at him, lifting his chin up. "Finishing blowing me and then we can cuddle, cher." He told the boy.

"No, you had your chance, mr 'its not fast enough'" He grumbled, sticking his tongue out. He scowled at him, lifting him up by his hair again.

"Would you rather kick you out with no place to sleep?" He asked, looking like he wanted to murder the boy. "I can still sleep in my room." He reminded him, hissing slightly. He was getting a bit tired of all the hair yanking.

He sat up, wincing slightly. "Then I'll just get my belt, oui? Does that sound good for you?" He would punish this boy.

"Hell no!" The scout began pushing against the bed, and the older man's legs, scrambling over everything to try and run away.

He grabbed the boy by his waste, grimacing. "Stop it you little shit." He grunted, trying to find something to beat him with.

"I swear to god if you don't let me go I'll bite you!" Jeremy threatened, wiggling as hard as he could.

He whacked the boys head, holding him in a way that didn't hurt his belly. "And that God will do nothing. You are behaving like a damn child after failing to finish me." He yelped, trying to get a hand up far enough to rub his head.

"Let me go!" He whined, kicking his feet against the edge of the bed.

He frowned, tossing the boy to the ground. "Leave." He said simply.

He scrambled over to the door, before turning and staring at the spy. His face was red and he looked a bit distressed now that he was upset.

The frenchmen wobbled back over to his bed. "Leave! I do not want you here!" He looked pissed. And a fucking mess.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, dumbass." He rolled his eyes, trotting over to the fridge. Since all his soda was gone, he settled for a water bottle, sighing quietly in discontent.

"Why don't you ever fucking listen? You're a pain." He put on pants and a shirt, neither of them the pressed cleanliness that was expected of him. "If you won't leave I'll just go, garçon."

He hissed. He zoomed to the door, slamming himself against it. "You can't leave! I haven't seen you all day, until now!"

He snarled, slapping him. "You are the one who left me alone to go drinking." He tried to remove the boys body from the door. He clung to it, glaring as he hissed through clenched teeth. That hurt, but he'd felt worse. "Well, that doesn't mean you can just leave now."

"Yes, I can! It's mon room, mon rules. I want to leave, because you're being the little shit." He was obviously ignoring the pain in his abdomen, his perfect straight back hunched over it.

He frowned, moving slowly away from the door- and straight to the bed, jumping on top and claiming it as his own. "Fine, go then, dickhead. I'm gonna jizz all over your sheets though." He promised.

He pulled out his cigarette holder, pulling out his smoke. "I don't care." He left the room, locking it behind himself as he always did.

Jeremy sunk against the bed, sulking quietly. The other man would be back any minute, and then they'd fuck and that'd be that, he decided, crawling under the covers. He kept watching the door, though.

But spy didn't come back. He had left to do God knows what, probably finding another Merc who would see his stomach and help him out. Or maybe he was just burning through all of his cigarettes.

He let out a dramatic wail of anguish, running to bump his head against the door. Poor scoot, he ended up laying on the floor, naked as fuck, rolling around to cure his boredom.


	2. Spy gets hurt, Dell is a better medic than Ludwig.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More angst, because I said so.

About two hours later he returned, reeking more of smoke than usual. He walked to his bed, not speaking a word.

Jeremy lifted his head cautiously, excited. He began inching toward the man, scooting across the floor until he reached the edge, peeking over to stare at him.

The frenchmen didn't look at him, just stared off. He didn't look hurt. Still a god damn mess, except you his mask. In the same spot as ever.

He reached over and poked the spy's side. "Hey?" He tried carefully, poking him a few more times.

He winced, not looking at him. He shook a little, like a child afraid of lightning.

The boy sighed, crawling onto the bed. "Man, are you okay? This is a bit much over one blowjob-"

Tears streamed down the frenchmens face, though he didn't make a sound. Something had happened after he left. Something bad.

He paused. It was rare to see the older man cry, and he felt like the issue was somehow his fault. "Heyheyhey, none of that cryin' stuff, what happened??" Scout tried to wipe the tears away, panicking. "I'm sorry man, fuck, I didn't mean to fuck you up that much!"

He shook his head, trying not to look Jeremy in the eyes. "Nothing, Mon Petit garçon." He tried to brush it off, wiping the tears from his eyes. It didn't work. The liquid soaked into his mask, which made it itchy.

"No, you gotta tell me." He pleaded, gripping the spy's shoulders.

He grimaced, removing the boys hands from his shoulders. "It's fine. Just ran into Ludwig." He muttered.

"That honestly doesn't sound real fine.." He mumbled, shrinking back. "Did you argue or somethin'?"

He shook his head, staring down at his lap. "Non..." He was still shaking, but he didn't want his son to feel bad.

"Are you cut up or somethin'? Let me see your body!" He tugged at his shirt frantically.

He frowned, pushing him back. He removed shirt himself, wincing. Multiple large cuts were there, poorly bandaged back together. Obviously Ludwig didn't do his damn job.

He winced, carefully placing a hand on a part of the man's chest. "Why'd he do this?" He questioned softly, shocked.

"He was tired and didn't want to stitch me up properly after throwing me out of a window..." He mumbled.

"Why the hell did he throw you out a window?!" He squeaked, fingers curling into tight fists.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He flirted with me, pressing his damn hands against my belly. I got mad, slapped him. He glared down at me, rambling in German about bullshit how I shouldn't have a relationship with you or some shit." This was the most spy had ever cursed in front of anyone.

"...dude who the _fuck_ throws someone out of a window over that!" Scout screamed, slamming his hands into his face and yelling.

He pulled back, wincing. "L'homme..."

Jeremy shivered, pulling his hands down his face and sniffling. "I'm sorry, damn it, this is my fault." He sobbed, forcefully pulling the other into a surprisingly gentle hug. He himself was trembling with anger, mad at himself and at the stupid fucking so called 'doctor'

He shook his head, petting the boy. "Non, Mon amour. I should not have run off." He held the boy close, making sure that Jeremy wasn't touching his wounds.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, silent for a moment. Something was still bothering him though. "Why'd he say we shouldn't be together? Does he got some kinda freak boner for you now?"

He shrugged, knowing the answer would upset the boy. "I do not know, Mon garçon." He claimed, hating the thought in his head.

"I'll ask him when I beat the fuck out of him." He decided, frowning. He wouldnt give it up till he got his answer.

He nodded, laying down on his side. "May I rest now, Mon Petit garçon?"

He nodded, remaining upright and staring down at his hands. He wasn't even that great of a fighter.  
"What does that stuff mean, anyway?" He asked, tilting his head. "The french stuff."

He cleared his throat, blushing. "My small boy." He told him, looking up at him. He raised a hand to his cheek.

"Oh." He grinned stupidly, relaxing a bit. He had loved the way his partner had spoken to him before in French, but never realized he was so cute about it. "-I'm small?" He laughed, moving to lay down beside him.

  


He nodded, kissing the shorter boy. "Compared to the other men I've been with, oui." He smiled, feeling safe. He glanced up at the door, frowning. "Can you make sure it is locked..?" He wanted to finally remove his mask this evening.

He nodded, getting up to lock the door. He secured it with a satisfying click. "Its not like anyones gonna find us in here anyway."

He nodded, waiting for his lover to come back this bed. "I just want to be safe. We can stay here tomorrow if you would like." He offered, smiling at him.

"Can't, I have to take someone out tomorrow." He grumbled, crawling back in next to him.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around him. "Alright, Mon amour." He started to pull up his tear soaked mask, wanting it away from his damn face.

"Are you, uh, sure you wanna take that off?" He questioned, looking uncertain

He raised an eyebrow at him. "This room has no windows and only one entrance that only the two of us in this room know of, why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno, I usually just figure you don't want me seeing you is all." He shrugged.

He rolled his eyes, removing the mask. "I trust mon garçon." He told him, smiling.

He blushed, briefly admiring the man's features before shoving his face into the other's chest

He grinned, holding the boys face closer to his pectoral muscles. "Like what you see?"

"Stop grabbing my head." He groaned playfully, licking a part of the spy's uninjured skin.

He leaned down, kissing the boys head. "I won't grab your hair this time, cher."

"Its kinda hot when you do." He smirked, kissing him on his nose.

He nodded, holding the boy tight. "Good." He buried his face into Jeremy's hair, hiding each wince.

The Scout knew his older companion was in pain, but he also knew he was prideful. It would be a bad idea to bring it up to him. Instead, he just kept awkwardly licking him, since he was a mess anyway.

He started humming that familiar tune again, sleep trying to rack its way through his mind.

Jeremy eventually stopped, satisfied with the little bit of cleaned up blood. Pulling away, he rested his head on his own pillow, still clinging to the man.

The spy smiled a little, closing his eyes. He stopped his humming, holding Jeremy as best as he could.

He stared at him for a minute, before closing his eyes as well. If he didn't, he'd probably start bawling, and he was much too macho to cry like that.


	3. A visit to Dell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lied, last chapter had no Dell. Oof, sorry. I'll write the actual interaction between Ludwig and Spy during the Medic/Heavy fic I'm working on.
> 
> But, a visit to dell.

Spy woke the next day, groggy as all hell. "Damn sugary monsters..." He grumbled, feeling a spike of pain shock through him. "Merde, merde, merde, merde." He hissed through clenched teeth. One of his deeper wounds reopened.

Jeremy grunted, his happily numb mind slowly forced into consciousness. "You okay babe?" He mumbled sleepily, eyes still half closed.

He choked a little, scrambling for something to close the wound with. "Blood, garçon. Help me." He sounded frantic, and scared.

Well, that was one way to wake someone up. He fell out of bed, running to the kitchen area to find some sort of bandages. He threw half the cupboard contents onto the floor, but located a first aid kit and some paper towels. "Igottowelsohmygodareyouokaywhathappened-"

He hissed, pressing a sheet to his wound to sop up the blood. "I just messed up the stitching, amour. Just help me out, we can go to Misha or Dell later for help."

"There might be some bandages or- or needles-" He stuttered, dumping the kit onto the floor.

"Calm yourself, or you're going to stab me." He looks at him with comforting eyes.

"You're hurt and its my fault!" He yelled in exasperation, trying to calm down as instructed.

"Non, it's not. It's Ludwig's fault." He reach for his lovers hands, trying to get him to chill his damn beans

"Yeah, but I made you mad enough to leave." He sighed, moving away and instead reaching around the pile for something to help. "Superglue, for holding cuts shut. Wanna use that?" He asked shakily.

He shook his head, wincing. "Non, idiot. You don't use glue on body parts." He frowns, sighing shallowly.

"We should just get me to someone who can help..." Someone who wasn't the medic. Someone they could trust has done this before.

"But its in the first aid kit!" He exclaimed, throwing it down. "Who put glue in the first aid kit- damn, ok, sorry man. Whos gonna help? I can force that piece a' shit doctor to?" He frowned, shaking his head once more.

"Non, just like Dell, or Sniper or someone who isn't that psycho." He tried to stand, feeling light headed. He put on his mask, and tried walk.

Jeremy slid under his arm, trying to help support him as they walked towards the door. "Okay, lets find one of them." He limped beside him, something that wasn't obvious the night before.

He was surprised he hadn't broken his bones from the height he fell from. But the worst are those deeps cuts and a twisted ankle.

He struggled to unlock the door, nervously leading his partner out while whispering quiet reassurance. "Where do we go?" He whimpered once they were out of the room.

He pressed his hand to a scanner on the wall, locking the door from the rest of the RED base. "Basement, Dells room..." He panted, trying to keep his breathing even, but failing.

"Alright, I'll get us there, shhh." He hushed the man, wanting him to save his breath for, well, breathing. He started leading him to the requested location at the fastest pace possible.

The frenchmen limped with the speedster, whimpering every once in a while when the pressure became too much for his ankle or blood was seeping down his back.

Jeremy tried to carry him, but he just wasn't strong enough. Eventually the reached the way down to the basement, and he helped the spy to lean against a wall outside it. "I'll go get him, okay?"

He nodded, breathing shallow and quick. He rested his head against the wall, groaning. The walk had practically killed his will to live right now.

"Stay put." He ordered, kissing him quickly before scampering off.

He grunted a response, trying not to fall over.

The sweet Texan stood over some blueprints for his new dispenser, not noticing the speedster scampering around. He hummed, tapping his pencil eraser on his lip. "Maybe, jus' maybe." He drawled.

Jeremy ran through the room, loudly knocking over at least five items before he slid to a halt a few feet behind the man. "I need your help!" He shouted, jogging awkwardly in place.

The man turned around, smiling wide. "Oh? Why, Jeremy, what can I do to help you?" He looked particularly happy, not knowing how dire the situation was.

"Uh, I don't know actually, but Spy is bleeding like, real bad!" He explained, slightly stumbling over his words.

His eyes widened behind his goggles, his smile quickly darkening to a sad face. "Where is he, darlin." He grabbed a box similarly sized to his tool box, but this had a plus on it instead.

He took off again, back up the way he had came. He hoped the other wouldn't have difficulty following him quickly.

He jogged behind the speedster, looking for Spy. And there he was, leaning against the wall bleeding and groaning. "Darlin, what happened to him, an why ain't ya at Medics room?"

"Because the medic made the bleeding happen with widows!" He spat, panicking again. He just wanted his lover to be comfortable and safe again, and the whole thing was overwhelming. The boy was still shirtless, even.

He lifted the poor spy, who looked like he was about to pass out from bloodloss. "Windows?" He asked, setting the guy on his belly. He removed his goggles, setting them next to some disinfectant.

The frenchmen groaned again. "Ludwig was jerk, I slapped him, he threw me out of a window..." He was having trouble just to get those words out.

Scout flopped down next to them, reaching for the spy's hand. "No more windows for you, though." He gripped it, whimpering.

The Texans eyes widened even wider. "What the hell? And he left ya with these shitty stitches?" He started wiping down the blood, and disinfecting the wounds. "I sure as hell hope none of these got infected..."

The previously energetic boy's expression was painted with worry and panic as he considered the possibilty of infection. Didn't that kill people? He focused on their hands instead, sighing deeply. "I'm gonna screw his whole day up, I promise, I'll knock him inta next freakin' Monday-"

The Texan gave him a look, frowning. "Now, now. We can talk this out later, but I need you to cool your jets now kidgit." He started removing the poor stitching, wincing at spy's noise of pain. "Sorry, darlin'. Scout, mind holdin' his hand so he has somethin' to squeeze."

The frenchmen reached for the boy, giving him pleading eyes.

He smiled halfheartedly, taking his hand and scooting closer. He grumbled quietly, not wanting to talk the issue out at all. Spy smiled gently, gripping the boys hand as tight as he could.

Soon, Dell had removed all of the stitching, washing down his back again. "Alright darlin, I just gotta stitch you back up an you two can go off for the day." Smiling gently at the two, the chubby Texan pulled out surgical string.

Scout winced, silently grateful it was not him experiencing such pain. He knew the Spy was much stronger, even if he wouldn't admit such a fact. But he didn't imagine he would hold up much longer like this. "Can't we get him some painkillers first or sumthin?"

Dell sighed, shaking his head. "Unless we want to let him bleed out waitin' for the meds to kick in. If I had a bit more time, yeah, but we don't have time. Just give him some. It'll help later." He rambled, looking through his box for painkillers.

Spy just closed his eyes, hissing as he tried to adjust himself.

"..oh. Damn." Jeremy growled to himself, turning to help his partner move. "I guess you're right, but isn't there an easier way to help him?"

He thought, sifting through his box, only finding some alcohol to be helpful. "Give em a few drinks. Or knock him out." He told the boy, holding up some whiskey.

"Non, I am not getting knocked out..." Spy muttered, frowning up at Dell. "I'll drink, but I do not trust you enough to be asleep near you." He hissed at the engineer.

"Alcohol it is." He snatched the bottle, easily popping it open and holding it to the masked man's lips. "You're gonna be drunk as hell."

He frowned, drinking up. Again. Why was he always at the torment of Jeremy forcing drinks into him.

Dell watched, slightly confused, but not truly worried. "Heh, somethin' I'm missin' here boys?" He asked, smirking as he leaned back. He was trustworthy. And had already noticed Spy's blooming love handles and prime ass.

"Shuddup and stick the needle in him!" He snapped, trying not to smile as he once again tipped a powerful liquid into the older man's mouth. It was painfully ironic. He pulled the bottle back at halfway, deciding to sneaky steal the rest and not give the wounded Spy alcohol poisoning.

Spy groaned gently, resting his head down. A few minutes later he doesn't know what he's doing here. Kind of.

He snickered, nodding. "Alright boy." He grabbed his needle, ready to thread into the growing man's back. "Be ready, darlin."

"I don't think he's gonna be able to feel it now." Jeremy poked his face, noticing the quick hold the alcohol had on him. He was still worried, but glad there wouldnt be much pain. He frowned, trying to bite his lovers fingers that prodded him.

"Yeah, that some strong stuff. Tavish made it for me." He chuckled, starting to sew the Frenchmen shut. "Stay calm, Darlin, it'll pinch for a bit."

He moved his fingers quickly, deciding that maybe he didn't want to steal any of the garbage he just forced the spy to drink. Sliding the bottle away, he just did his job of holding his hand tight.

Dell sewed each of the gashes shut quickly, pausing at any response from the Spy. "Good. Good." He cooed, not hearing any loud screams from him, like most others. With his organic hand he pet the man's head, wanting to make sure he's okay.

Jeremy glared, clinging to his partner. He didn't want to seem too possessive, considering the other man was helping the two. "You done yet?" He questioned.

He nodded, taking his hands off of him. "Yeah, I'll let you two get off to whatever you want. I advise you rest for a while." He packed up, putting his supplies back into his room.

Spy nodding, standing up wobbly. "Merci beaucoup..." He mumbled at the man. He could usually handle himself pretty good, but he was a mess.

The smaller boy moved to support him, ready to help him walk back. "Yeah, thanks, I think." He squinted, beginning to tug spy away.

The Frenchmen walked with him, looking like he was going to fall over. "Garçon, where are we going..?" He asked, confused as fuck.

"Back to our room, so you can rest like your 'sposed to." He explained, irritated by the slow pace, but understanding.

He nodded, clinging to the boy. If anyone saw him like this normally, he would be pissed. Now, he's just tired. A tad bit disoriented, but that's fine right? "

We'll be there soon, just chill, ok?" He promised, glancing up at him.

He smiled, kissing him sloppily. "Okay, amour..."


End file.
